


Dumb Bird Husbands

by Neyiea



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-26
Updated: 2013-07-26
Packaged: 2017-12-21 11:09:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/899589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neyiea/pseuds/Neyiea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sandy and Pitch as Tooth Fairies. Based off of <a href="http://whentheoceanmetsky.tumblr.com/post/53886252440/okay-so-i-actually-drew-dumb-bird-husbands-no-i">this art</a> from tumblr.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Pitch enjoys collecting flawed teeth.

Most of his Brothers and Sisters won’t so much as go near a tooth that is anything but pristine, white and glossy like a pearl, but he himself has never been interested in perfection.

He likes the ones that are cracked, the ones that have cavities, fillings, blackened roots. Children can’t take care of their teeth at all hours of the day, and from what Pitch has seen dental hygiene is usually forced upon them before they go to bed.

A tooth is a tooth, no matter its state, so Pitch makes sure to collect every one that the others pass over and deftly leaves a quarter under the child’s pillow.

He relishes in holding them in his hands and finding their faults before he brings them back to the Tooth Palace. They are imperfect and different, and that is what makes them unique.

But most importantly, they are ugly like he is.

He is tall where he should be short and dainty enough to slip into rooms with ease, his plumage is a dull black, with only the slightest hint of deep greens and purples on his tail feathers where no one can see, and his wingspan, for a Tooth Fairy of his outrageous height, falls regrettably short. The only flashy thing about him is the minuscule spattering of yellow around his wrists, but that is not enough to make up for everything else about his appearance.

He had thought, once, that someday he would grow into himself. He would moult and his new feathers would grow in bright and beautiful, just as flashy as the other Tooth Fairies. 

That was a long time ago.

He’s quite content with himself now. He’s not like the others and never will be, but he still does his job as best as he can and takes pride in what he does. What more could anyone ask for?

He perches upon a rooftop, just before sunrise, and goes through the small pouch of teeth he collected during the night.

A premolar with a large filling, a discoloured bicuspid, an incisor that has obviously never been flossed. He’s so attentive in his inspection that he doesn’t hear the soft flutter of wings coming towards him and only barely sees the flash of sunny yellow in his peripheral vision.

Sandy alights beside him and Pitch turns from his collection to nod politely in greeting.

If there were ever an example of perfection in Tooth Fairies, Sandy is it. He is small enough to manoeuvre through the tightest spaces, his colouring is the most bright and eye-catching of them all; yellows and oranges and white with hints of green in the patterns, and his wingspan is frankly remarkable for someone of his size. Not to mention that though he does not speak often, his singing voice is nothing short of bewitching. With so many positive characteristics it’s no wonder that he’s one of, if not the, most popular Tooth Fairies in existence. Even Pitch, when he was younger, had entertained certain thoughts before he realized he was just setting himself up for failure. There was nothing he could offer Sandy that one of his other Brothers or Sisters couldn’t provide.

And oh, how they liked to show off in Sandy’s presence, flitting about rapidly, crests flawless and wings proudly on display.

He’s never let the attention get to his head though, never acted like he was better than any of the others because of it, and that is perhaps why Pitch doesn’t mind his presence.

That, and Sandy is one of the few who Pitch knows has never poked fun at him, joking or otherwise, for being different.

Sandy shifts a little closer and looks down at the teeth in Pitch’s hands. His brow furrows, but he doesn’t show outright disgust like Pitch has come to expect, and he turns his curious gaze up to Pitch’s face.

"I like them," is all Pitch has to say, and Sandy’s smile turns warm. He takes out his own bag, considerably larger than Pitch’s, and starts going through the teeth he gathered during the night.

Pitch glaces over, not surprised that somehow the ones Sandy finds are the most ideally formed and flawlessly cared for, but he does see something that makes him go still in surprise.

"You collect the damaged ones too?" He can’t keep the astonishment from colouring his voice. He had no idea that anyone other than him willingly gathered up the undesirables.

"Teeth are teeth," Sandy answers, repeating Pitch’s own thoughts back to him.

Pitch smiles before he can think better of it, but he quickly clamps his lips shut.

His own teeth are just as bad as the ones he collects. They are healthy, but crooked and sharp in a way that reminds him of a predatory animal. 

Sandy sinks a little, and it looks like even his lovely feathered crest is drooping.

"I wish you would smile more," he says and Pitch, well, he’s not sure how to respond to that, so he says nothing at all.

Dawn is coming, staining the sky pink at the horizon, so Pitch slips the teeth back into his sack and gets ready to fly home. Sandy silently copies his actions and together they take flight, racing away from the sun’s light, chasing the darkness.

They reach the Tooth Palace and put away the teeth, each one having its own special place in a personalized Memory Box, and then make their way to their respective roosts.

Sandy’s is, of course, right in the middle of everybody’s, while Pitch’s is far off to the side.

He falls asleep without noticing the way Sandy keeps tossing looks over his shoulder, and he dreams of softly whistling canaries.

The following day as he sets out on his assigned route he notices that Sandy is trailing after him, which strikes him as a little odd. Every set of Tooth Fairies has their own pre-determined region to collect from, and while his and Sandy’s are nearby so they might bump into each other when flying home, they do not work in the same section.

The routes do not change unless someone asks for it to be changed.

He has a sinking feeling in his chest. What if the Sister of Flight who ran the route with him before was so put off by Pitch’s appearance that she asked someone to switch with her? And Sandy, considerate being that he was, did so without fuss?

He feels oddly solemn for the rest of the night. He shouldn’t care, he should be over everyone’s reaction to his appearance by now, but for someone to go out of their way to not see him…

It hurts.

He perches on the same rooftop when his night is over, clutching his small bag of teeth, and broods.

He does not feel irritation when Sandy once again settles beside him, but he doesn’t turn to greet him either. If he looks over at Sandy he’ll ask why, why he switched places, what his Sister said about Pitch that could have made him agree to taking her place.

Sandy nudges him lightly and when Pitch still doesn’t turn towards him he flutters in front of him, face inches away from his, and searches Pitch’s downcast eyes.

"What’s wrong?" He asks, and if he hadn’t actually sounded so concerned Pitch would have just ignored him.

"Nothing."

Sandy’s look turns disbelieving, and he stubbornly flits in front of Pitch until his resolve crumbles.

"Why did Baby Tooth want to switch routes with you?" Sandy’s expression turns confused and Pitch resolutely stares down at his hands and continues. “I know I’m not the best Tooth Fairy, and I don’t collect nearly as many teeth as anyone else because it takes me so much time to get in and out of rooms without knocking anything over, but I do try to be good. Is that not enough?"

Sandy’s hands enter his field of vision, softly taking hold of his own, but Pitch refuses to look up at him and he can’t seem to stop speaking. 

"Am I really such a burden that she couldn’t stand to work with me anymore?" He asks, hating the way his voice cracks.

He hears Sandy take a deep breath and then-

Then there is singing.

He looks up in surprise but quickly turns his gaze away to hide his flushing cheeks. Sandy’s whistling is a soothing balm to his hurt feelings, a sweet melody that is obviously meant to make him feel better.

Sandy sings even less often than he talks and if Pitch were anyone else, anyone with a proper body and proper colouring and proper teeth, he would think that there was more to it, much more than a simple song to make him feel better. But Pitch is Pitch, and Sandy is just being as nice as he always is.

The singing stops and Sandy gently lets go of Pitch’s hands to cradle his face, lifting Pitch’s eyes up to meet his.

"I asked Baby Tooth to switch with me," he whispers, and Pitch is actually a little touched that Sandy would lie to him about this.

"I see," he murmurs back, “the sun is rising, we’d best be off."

Sandy nods and they once again fly together on their way home.

The following night as they head out towards their destination Sandy flies right beside him until the time comes for them to actually set out to collect the teeth.

Pitch loses himself in his work, flitting about as quickly as possible while dodging ceiling fans and narrow spaces. This time when he makes his way to his usual perch Sandy is already there.

Pitch stops in his tracks.

Sandy’s plumage is spread out to showcase his glossy, flamboyant colours and intricate patterns, and it’s almost like he’s making a display. But that can’t be right, he’s merely stretching out his wings after a long night’s work and hadn’t been expecting Pitch to be done so soon.

He commands his heart to stop racing and perches beside the other, self consciously folding his own wings so that they’re as unnoticeable as possible and keeping his eyes glued to the teeth in his hands.

If he were to have looked up he would have seen a hopeful, then dejected, look pass over Sandy’s face.

His nights continue on, as they are wont to do, and he finds that he really, truly enjoys Sandy’s company. So much so that he slowly starts paying less and less attention to the teeth he’s collected, and instead focusing on him.

He can’t help but notice the way Sandy sometimes sits so close that their sides are touching, and that he sometimes runs his fingers over Pitch’s feathers with an almost reverent expression, as if he’s preening him, and that he sometimes brings a branch of ripe raspberries to the rooftop with him for them to share.

It makes Pitch feel flustered and out of his depth, even though he knows deep down that Sandy doesn’t mean anything by it, but he adores the attention so much that he can’t bring himself to tell Sandy to stop, stop giving him false hope. He isn’t strong enough to pull away from Sandy, and he doesn’t think he ever will be.

It is an uncharacteristically cold morning, months after he and Sandy first started working together, when the other Tooth Fairy pulls him aside before he can leave for work. He leads him deep, deep into the forest that surrounds the mountains of the Tooth Place and absolutely refuses to answer any of Pitch’s questions with anything other than:

"Someone is covering for us today."

Why is someone taking their place? Why do they need a day off? What about the imperfect teeth, who will collect them if not Pitch and Sandy? Where is Sandy even taking him?

Sandy slows to a stop and sets Pitch down on a branch. Pitch crosses his arms and frowns deeply, but while Sandy seems oddly nervous and twitchy, Pitch’s obvious confusion doesn’t stop him from smiling brightly and launching himself into the sky.

He dances on the wind, dives and turns and dips his head, occasionally alighting on a branch to perform a series of intricate steps before spreading his wings out fully and taking to the sky once more, throwing himself into his display.

Pitch watches, mouth gaping open and face flushing darker by the minute.

Unless he’s very mistaken, the reason Sandy brought him out to a secluded place, alone, to show off his ariel skills like this would be because he’s courting him.

Sandy sets down on the branch beside him and once again begins to sing. This time the song is not just a soothing melody, but an intricate ballad of love and devotion that not even Pitch can brush off as something done out of friendship alone.

When Sandy goes silent and give him an anxious, expectant look, Pitch can hardly even find words to respond.

"I-I don’t understand," he manages to stutter out and Sandy’s eyes go soft and he takes one of Pitch’s hands in his own.

"I have something else to show you."

He leads him back, closer to the Palace, and stops just short of the tree clearing where all the roosts are.

There, hidden away from prying eyes, is a large, elaborate nest lined with the soft moss that Pitch favours in his own. Each branch and vine looks to be in perfect condition, and have been put together like this is what they were made for.

His breath catches in his throat.

"How long did it take you to make this?"

They do not have a lot of free time, their lives are mostly taken up by work and sleep and for Sandy to have built a nest from scratch without anyone noticing means he could have only spent the smallest amount of time gathering supplies before returning so that no one would notice his absence. 

"I’ve been working on it for months."

"Months," he marvels and Sandy nods, locking their fingers together tightly.

"Ever since I asked to switch routes with Baby Tooth."

Pitch’s knees feel weak and his cheeks are absolutely burning.

"But- but why me?"

Sandy drifts closer to him and nuzzles against his neck.

"You’re different," he explains, “I like different. You collect the bad teeth too, not just because it’s your job, but because you want to. You know that even they are precious and need to be kept."

"I’m so bland, though."

Sandy leans away and looks up at him with bright eyes. “I think you’re gorgeous."

Pitch’s mouth goes completely dry.

"Pitch, would you stay with me? I promise to care for you, provide for you and sing for you always, and I’ll do my best to put a smile on your face every hour of every day. I always feel happiest when you are happy, and I hope that maybe we could share each other’s joy equally." He smiles earnestly. “Do you think that you could come to love me, as I love you?"

"Yes," Pitch says, so quietly that he can hardly hear himself, “yes," he repeats louder, again and again as he throws his arms around Sandy in a tight embrace and together they tumble into the nest.

Sandy laughs against him and leans back only so that he can plant several kisses along Pitch’s cheeks before returning the hug.

"I love you Pitch," he chimes happily, “more than anything in the world."

"Sandy," Pitch begins softly, and he cannot for the life of him keep himself from smiling, “you’re my one and only."


	2. Chapter 2

There is nothing in the world that Sandy loves more than his job. He adores swiftly flying through the air, diving into rooms and leaving quarters under pillows.

The best part is, of course, collecting the teeth.

They are all unique and precious in their own way, each one storing the most important memories of childhood. He gathers up as many as he can as fast as he can, and he can’t help but feel a burst of pride within his chest when he beats his quota nearly every night. 

Every once in a while he comes across a tooth with imperfections and he just as gleefully snatches it up as he does with the pristine teeth.

There is something about those flawed teeth that he can’t help but find interesting.

They are so different from what Tooth Fairies are taught is perfect, and it almost seems as though most of his Brothers and Sisters want to go out of their way to avoid them, even though they’re just as important as any other tooth. They do it because it’s their job, but they hold them at arms length and act as if it’s a chore.

Sometimes he wonders who would willingly collect the imperfect teeth, if not him?

It’s completely by chance that he one day overhears a group of his Brothers and Sisters talking about the faulty teeth. It’s not often that he comes across gossip, the others tend to stop talking amongst themselves when he flies by and would never dream of saying or doing anything that would make them look bad. So when he barely discerns the word ‘cavity’ he cannot help his curiosity.

He slips into the shadow of one of the Tooth Repositories and strains his ears.

His Brothers and Sisters are talking of Pitch and his apparent propensity towards collecting ugly teeth, one of them goes so far as to joke that he believes each one is a treasure, as if the fillings are made of real silver.

Sandy purses his lips at their ill mannered teasing, but cannot help but be intrigued by the information they unknowingly shared.

He and Pitch do not interact much; he always seems to be in the thick of things while Pitch flutters along the sidelines. Pitch never flies in close to him to show off a particularly perfect tooth he’d collected, to showcase his plumage, to sing, or attempt to draw him into a conversation. He keeps a distance at all times. Sandy does make sure to politely wave or nod his head whenever they do cross paths and Pitch always gives him a tight lipped smile in return, but that has always been the extent of their communication.  
Now that Sandy knows of his inclination to pick up teeth that the others avoid, he finds his interest piqued.

He starts paying a little more attention to him, just glancing at him out of the corner of his eye whenever he can. Pitch’s dark plumage makes him a beacon amongst the other Tooth Fairies, so he’s always easy to spot.

He must be very good at blending in with the shadows, Sandy thinks one day. It is not often that a child wakes up when a Tooth Fairy is in the room, but if it were to happen Pitch would have the easiest time getting away without being spotted. He looks down at his own colouring, as if to compare.

Pitch’s feathers are as dark as the night sky and he is so very dissimilar to all the others that Sandy cannot help but become a little fond of him for it.

He’s always liked things that were different.

In the majority of his social interactions it is others reaching out first, but it is clear that Pitch will not approach him of his own will. Maybe it’s time for him to be the one to establish contact.

He begins seeking Pitch out more often, trying to get a little closer, but it’s difficult to get in touch when everyone always flocks around him and Pitch seems to prefer being on the outskirts. He gets swept away in a tide of happily chattering Fairies and Pitch stays as he ever was, alone.

Sandy wishes he didn’t always look so solitary, and his resolve to become Pitch’s friend turns unwavering.

Their respective nightly routes are not too far apart, and in the past they have sometimes silently flown home in view of each other, so it is no great surprise when he comes across Pitch one early morning, perched upon a rooftop.

The expression on his face, though, steals the air right out of Sandy’s lungs.

He has never seen Pitch look so blissfully content, so when Pitch acknowledges his presence with a nod Sandy can’t help but shift closer to get a look at what could possibly be responsible for his soft countenance. 

In Pitch’s hands are flawed teeth.

Of course Sandy had known that he liked collecting them, but being vaguely aware of something is so unlike actually seeing it for himself.

He looks up at Pitch’s face, feeling a little amazed.

"I like them," Pitch says without prompting, and the unabashed way he explains himself makes Sandy feel so delighted that he cannot help but smile.

When he pulls out his own collection and Pitch spots the chipped molar he’d snatched up, he sounds about as surprised as Sandy had felt when he’d first learned that there was someone else going out of their way to gather up the imperfect teeth.

"Teeth are teeth," he cannot help but say.

Pitch grins then, so bright and radiant, and Sandy could swear his heart skips a beat. It lasts for only a second before his lips snap shut, and his eyes shift away like he’s ashamed of his smile.

Sandy sinks a little, feeling oddly gloomy that Pitch shut himself away so quickly.

"I wish you would smile more," he says without thinking, but the words ring true.

He wants Pitch to be happy and carefree, wants him to smile so widely that his cheeks begin to hurt.

A thought takes root as they fly home together, manifesting so strongly that Sandy cannot ignore it.

Maybe, just maybe, _he_ could be the one to make Pitch smile.


End file.
